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Oct. 7th, 2010 10:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jheti
I just came up here to say that I got enough sleep and I can feel where I could live with three or four more nights of that.
And I fully intend to help anon out by making Spock cry. Not because I particularly want to see Spock cry, but just because this intersects with my thing with crying men. Especially if it's that face-twisting total anguish. The only time I actually wanted to make it with my boyfriend was when he broke into sniffles over us not being together anymore, flashed me his teeth, and punched his locker.
Should be kinda evident why we broke up, but oh, for a second there, he was absolutely arresting.
You really have no idea how disappointed I was that certain parties remained dry-eyed and staring. Still, the almost is almost as good.
I'm sure that's a little off, somewhere, but I don't care anymore.
Oh, I may end up with Ariadne/Arthur. I need to break him, and she's so adorable. No one will ever suspect. Worlds wound tight. The city breathes while they sleep.
See, Cobb/Arthur doesn't work because there's all this gluing back together, holding each other up. Drying your eyes.
You've got it so, so wonderfully backward.
Similarly: Eames has a mouth like a gutter creature, but I can't see him doing the crucial thing. Which is driving the poor boy to tears.
You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.
There will also be insanely overlarge sentient world-ending ships trying to out-top each other. That will be so much fun.
I always have a certain amount of trouble with the comfort portion of hurt/comfort. How strange.
I promise I did originally come up here to say today is beautiful, just lightly chilly and blue with autumn oncoming. I sprawled on the lawn. Life is so much clearer from a worm's-eye view. Makes the earth tilt a little. Makes the world seem like something you could actually hold on to, like it's permanent, like it means anything. You can smell the grass and feel the water and the dirt.
Well this entry was full of useless TMI. Ta!
And I fully intend to help anon out by making Spock cry. Not because I particularly want to see Spock cry, but just because this intersects with my thing with crying men. Especially if it's that face-twisting total anguish. The only time I actually wanted to make it with my boyfriend was when he broke into sniffles over us not being together anymore, flashed me his teeth, and punched his locker.
Should be kinda evident why we broke up, but oh, for a second there, he was absolutely arresting.
You really have no idea how disappointed I was that certain parties remained dry-eyed and staring. Still, the almost is almost as good.
I'm sure that's a little off, somewhere, but I don't care anymore.
Oh, I may end up with Ariadne/Arthur. I need to break him, and she's so adorable. No one will ever suspect. Worlds wound tight. The city breathes while they sleep.
See, Cobb/Arthur doesn't work because there's all this gluing back together, holding each other up. Drying your eyes.
You've got it so, so wonderfully backward.
Similarly: Eames has a mouth like a gutter creature, but I can't see him doing the crucial thing. Which is driving the poor boy to tears.
You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.
There will also be insanely overlarge sentient world-ending ships trying to out-top each other. That will be so much fun.
I always have a certain amount of trouble with the comfort portion of hurt/comfort. How strange.
I promise I did originally come up here to say today is beautiful, just lightly chilly and blue with autumn oncoming. I sprawled on the lawn. Life is so much clearer from a worm's-eye view. Makes the earth tilt a little. Makes the world seem like something you could actually hold on to, like it's permanent, like it means anything. You can smell the grass and feel the water and the dirt.
Well this entry was full of useless TMI. Ta!
